


Back to The Shore

by lilys_bananas_coven



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bathtubs, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Heavy Angst, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Or Parental, Or platonic, What Have I Done, a lot of crying, cordelia has fucked up and madison is fucked up, it's 70 percent crying, just a lot of sobbing, so much of it, their dynamics are vague, this is not romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:34:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27576574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilys_bananas_coven/pseuds/lilys_bananas_coven
Summary: Madison and Cordelia and the catastrophic mess they're in.
Relationships: Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode & Madison Montgomery, Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode/Madison Montgomery
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	Back to The Shore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AsterHowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsterHowl/gifts).



> Hello everyone!! Sorry I haven't published anything in so long, finals are in a few days eeek :/ 
> 
> Now before you get into this I just wanna say that from the very beginning of Coven, Madison and Cordelia's relationship has intrigued me a lot and I found myself so hung up on what the two of them could possibly be like that I had to write this shit long one-shot of them. I really don't even know in what way I ship them, hence the vague and unnamed dynamics I've written them in. I may write more of them in the future because I just feel like there was so much tension between them that was never resolved :') 
> 
> p.s. this is dedicated to the amazing author I had a conversation with earlier today about Madelia/Cordison, or whatever their ship name is! That talk really had me thinking while I was finishing up this piece, so here you go! I hope you like it :')

“Madison, have a seat.”

Cordelia is diplomatic and proper as always, elegance seemingly exuding from her pores as she holds her hand out over the desk, motioning to the seat across from hers. It’s so fucking infuriating, honestly. Madison waits a couple beats before she reluctantly takes a seat. Her fingers itch for a cigarette, and before she can stop herself she’s pulling one out and struggling with her lighter to blaze the tip. Cordelia watches in silence, noting the girl’s frustrated aura. It’s nothing new, but she seems particularly worked up today. (She’s made it clear just from her body language how much she doesn’t want to be having this talk right now, almost like she knows what it’s about. She does.)

“I don’t allow smoking in my office, Madison,” she starts, and her voice remains gentle in its nature, eyes still warm despite the obvious warning to her words.

Madison promptly rolls her eyes, takes a massive drag, and blows it all out in front of the Supreme. She daringly stares right at Cordelia as she does so, but there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach at the way the woman’s smile doesn’t falter, the way she stares right back with just as much confidence. It’s new, seeing the woman who had been nothing but an unsure shadow in Fiona’s demanding life, flourish into the most powerful witch on earth. She’s no longer the doormat Madison had countlessly smeared her shoes on. 

“I actually don’t allow it anywhere in this house,” Cordelia continues, and she merely looks at the cigarette to extinguish it, forcing a shocked scowl from Madison, “but since I can’t seem to handle that yet, I’ll stay true to the rule where I can.”

Madison scoffs, and it’s dramatic, rude, and so unmistakably Madison. Cordelia almost smiles wider at the sound, because she feels it now. She feels power, and she feels rejuvenated with a sense of self she had never once had until embodying Supremacy. Madison is not a threat to her self esteem, or any aspect of herself, like she once was. This encounter will make the young star understand that, but she knows she isn’t here to establish her power. She’s here to do something that’s possibly irreversibly overdue. 

“I get it, Cordy. You’re the Supreme, and you think you’re so damn powerful and now I’m gonna have to follow all your ancient rules for this place. That’s why I’m here, right?” Madison finally speaks, chucking her burnt out cigarette onto Cordelia’s desk. Her eyes bore into Cordelia’s, because they both know this is not why she’s here.

“You’re right. I am powerful and I do have rules that I’m implementing in the academy for the safety and well being of this coven, now that we’ll be having more than just a handful of young witches around. But that’s not what you’re here for. I’m sure you know the real reason for this,” the Supreme speaks in her familiar, soft tones, but her eyes betray the implication behind her words. 

“What would that reason be?” Madison tilts her head, seeking out the thrill of challenging Cordelia’s new found ability to speak to her.

“I figured you would make me spell it out for you because getting things out of people is certainly what you do best, isn’t it?” Cordelia’s smile is ever present, and she could almost be mistaken for kind in this moment but she is certainly not. Madison seethes in silence, but she refuses to look away.

“Your behaviour towards me as of late has been concerning. I would have paid it no mind if it stopped after a day or two, not a week. You’ve been more rude than should even be acceptable, and while you’re really testing my patience, I know something’s going on. I’m worried about you, Madison. I need to know what’s wrong.”

_What the fuck isn’t wrong, Cordelia?_

The younger blonde says nothing. Her lips twitch, and so do her fingers where Cordelia can’t see them. She seems adamant on something, and Cordelia does want this talk to actually go somewhere. She has to make a small compromise, however much it goes against her values, and hopes she won’t regret it. Sighing softly, she picks up the abandoned cigarette on her desk, relighting it with her effortless pyrokinesis. She passes it back to a shocked Madison, allowing the girl to snatch it desperately from between her fingers. Her heart almost aches at how evident the girl’s dependence on the nicotine is, absently wondering at the back of her mind just how long it may take to reverse all her years of addiction if she were to try and quit. However daunting it seems, Cordelia isn’t fazed by the idea of helping Madison through it. 

“Why are you worried about me, Cordy? I could just get out of your hair and go back to Hollywood. Death did my body good. I’m skinny as a stick, just the way those bastards like. I won’t have an issue getting booked for the role of some hot slut, probably. It’s not like I’m obligated to stay here,” Madison chuckles, devoid of any humor. She breathes her cigarette down to its filter in record time, a clear sign of her anxiety.

“Staying here in the academy gives you protection you won’t get anywhere else. People don’t like our kind,” Cordelia takes Madison’s blatant deflection to her prior words in her stride; she had been expecting this to be difficult. 

“And whose fault is it that the whole world knows about us now, huh?” Madison snaps back without breathing, fiery in her tone.

Sighing, Cordelia places her laced fingers atop the desk, staring Madison down with ease. She allows herself a moment to remind herself of the purpose of this talk, while the latter uses the same seconds to form a small smirk on her lips. But Cordelia is not blind anymore- figuratively or literally- and Madison is as easy to read as one of her spellbooks. She’s nervous, anxious, and most certainly doesn’t want to be sitting in this room right now. This isn’t supposed to be like that. The Supreme knows that the first moves are up to her if they want to get somewhere. And she really, really wants to get somewhere.

“I did it for that reason precisely. With publicity, more witches can find their ways to us, where they’ll be safe. There may be a few targets on this coven’s back, but with the collective power of more witches joining us, we’ll be strong enough to defend ourselves and fight back if we have to. The greatest threats are gone, you know that.” 

Cordelia having such a self-assured lilt to her words is somewhat refreshing, if Madison’s ever seen it. Deep down, a self loathing side of her mind taunts her that it’s just another reason for her erratic behaviour lately. She has to stifle her audible growl of anger at the madness that is her own mind, and by the gods does she hate that she knows Cordelia can see through her now. It makes everything harder. Without a good enough response to the woman’s words that admittedly make sense, she does the next best thing that her sharp tongue can manage. 

“Who the hell is gonna protect everyone here, then? You?” Madison scoffs, and at her blatant attempt to get under Cordelia’s skin, the latter can only sigh.

Cordelia doesn’t like the direction this is taking. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t expected it to steer this way, with Madison heavily on the offensive in favour of protecting herself from any and all displays of vulnerability or cooperation. She figures all she can do now is take the wheel and lead them to the first place they need to go. Accountability. 

“I have some apologies to you and the other girls that have been here throughout these rough months that are long overdue, Madison. I’m going to start with you, because this is a better time than any.”

Madison watches the Supreme’s every move, barely concealing her interest in the woman’s words as Cordelia stands, rounding her desk. She settles, leaning against the side of it that Madison is seated at, and the massive height advantage she has from standing unnerves Madison only a little. She looks up at Cordelia daringly, questioningly. The older blonde sighs again, and something undecipherable in her gaze softens. 

“In the fight we all had to endure against Fiona, and the witch hunters, and the other countless dangers this coven has survived, I have neglected my position as the headmistress of this academy in… in catastrophic ways. I wasn’t careful enough with you girls. You’ve had trips to hell because of it. Nan and Misty… you know what happened to them.”

There’s a distant look in the older blonde’s eyes as she says the names of the girls, and Madison almost feels bad because she’s clearly still grieving Nan’s and Misty’s deaths; the only ones that couldn’t be undone. She opts to stay silent for once, and hates herself for having any sliver of respect for the woman; it just makes everything harder.

“You’ve… you’ve been through a lot, Madison. And I- there was so much more I could've done for you when it mattered the most, but I didn’t. I know I was going through issues of my own but I can’t be excused. I’ve endured uncountable failures throughout my life until now, but not being there for you is one of my worst,” Cordelia sniffles, unable to hold her tears back at the thought of everything scorching itself painfully to the surface of her mind, “and for that, Madison, I am more sorry than I’ll ever be able to tell you.”

If there’s anything that would have thrown Madison off, it’s the sight of the brand new Supreme in tears, looking away but still leaning against her desk. She’s too late to hide the shimmering in her honeyed eyes, and it does enough to unnerve Madison. The apology also hadn’t been expected, and her own insides burn because the two of them are well aware of what exactly it is she’s been through in the past months, if not specifically Zoe’s first night at the academy. Cordelia reaches up to wipe at her face, sniffling quickly before she looks back down at the slightly stunned, and almost imperceptibly softened Madison. Cordelia isn’t playing around, not that she’d ever be that cruel. Fiona, maybe, but never Cordelia. Back then, she hadn’t the guts, but now, she hasn’t the malevolence. 

“Sorry, I… didn’t mean to get emotional,” Cordelia then mutters, visibly composing herself before continuing, “I’ve blamed Fiona for so many of my own shortcomings. I was selfish in that way, for not being able to accept how much wrong I have done. I’m trying to get past that. I know none of what happened can be undone. I’d not be much better than Fiona if I leave these things behind without trying to resolve them. Becoming the Supreme has also given me something I’ve never had before, and it’s clarity. Real clarity, to see people for who they are and what they need.”

As she says the words, her warm eyes pierce, almost gently, into Madison’s mind. It’s uncomfortable to have every facade she’s ever put on being seen through with no visible effort. Really, it’s just a look Cordelia’s giving her, but Madison is not stupid. She is painfully aware that she’s being disarmed. The realisation of it sinks deep within her, and tears sting at her eyes in a way she has no control of. Cordelia can see her. She can really see her, and it hurts, because Madison had never wanted anyone to find the aftermath her soul has been living with ever since the very first wound she had forced herself to heal without stitches. She hates how she can’t get a hold of herself, choking out an expletive along with her first strangled sob. 

Cordelia had been trying to prepare herself for any possible reaction she’d get out of Madison, but it still catches her off guard to see Madison break down right before her eyes. She raises a hand, quickly casting a sound-proofing spell on her office; Madison wouldn’t want anyone to hear this. Kneeling down in front of the smaller girl, she slowly reaches out to touch her, cautious. Expectedly, Madison swats her hands away, curling into herself on the chair.

“Fuck off, Cordelia,” she cries, and there’s not nearly as much venom in her tone as she would want. She just sounds broken. She sounds as pathetic as she feels, for the first time in a long, long time.

“Madison,” Cordelia whispers, as gently as her voice allows, “I’m not an enemy. I want to help you.”

Madison looks up from between her knees, glaring at the kneeling woman with all she can muster in her weakened state. Tough fucking shit. She hates it; she hates feeling so weak and defeated in front of Cordelia, of all people. Something about it hurts more, and she can’t figure out why.

“I don’t want your help! You j-just wanted to see me break, right? Well- congrats,” she whimpers, and it stings the Supreme more than any of her harshness ever could. She has to try again.

“Madison, the last thing I want is to see you like this. But I knew that this was going to happen, now or later. And it’s okay to let it out. It’s okay,” the Supreme murmurs, soft as she tries again to reach for the girl’s cold hands. This time, Madison allows herself to be touched, unfamiliar with the warmth of Cordelia’s hands holding hers. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, Madison,” Cordelia speaks softly, searching for Madison’s eyes with her warm gaze.

_You already have._

It’s these words, in their hushed nature and intimately close to Madison’s hurting scars, that makes her drop the last of her futile protests against the Supreme. She lunges forward, off the chair and into Cordelia’s open arms. Her frail body falls against Cordelia’s strong frame, and she buries her face into the crook of the woman’s neck. Her sobs are violent and she chokes on the faint floral scent of the woman’s perfume with every breath she struggles to take. The arms around her are grounding, they’re strong. She cries harder; warmth is unfamiliar.

“Shh… it’s okay, you’re safe. I’ve got you, okay?” Cordelia murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of the small blonde’s head.

This hurt is more intense than Madison has ever felt it before. Her every nerve ending feels smarted, the fibres of her being screaming in agony. Her very soul sobs into Cordelia’s body, breaking and hiding there. She’s safe. She knows that now, from the Supreme’s tender whispers and gentle hold. But that doesn’t make the pain of a lifetime disappear, as much as she absently wishes it could. That doesn’t make her feel it. Madison is bared completely, broken and vulnerable in the presence of her Supreme. She’s acutely aware of how much worse this all is because it’s Cordelia, and not anyone else, seeing her at this very moment.

“Let me take us somewhere more comfortable,” Cordelia mutters, but only when Madison is a little calmer than before.

Just as the younger blonde begins to protest, not wanting to be seen by anyone, Cordelia hushes her again. Madison stills. 

“I know, sweetheart. Just close your eyes, okay? I’ll take care of you,” Cordelia whispers, waiting for Madison to obey.

When Madison hesitantly lets her lids fall closed, her body but a ragdoll in the tremors of her unbridled emotion, Cordelia closes hers as well. Her mind rids itself of additional thoughts for a moment, focusing on the feeling of one fixed location in the academy. Within a split second, they vanish from the room, Madison curled up in Cordelia’s arms. A part of her has yet to let sink in the fact that this is happening, and that she’s even letting it.

It’s magic, in all essence, and Cordelia is overflowing with it.

The Supreme successfully transmutates them to her bedroom, and they land on her neatly made mattress with a soft bounce. Madison holds on tighter for a moment, confused and scared and unwilling to open her eyes. Fear is one of the many feelings that’s consuming her, and Cordelia silently hopes to make it all go away as soon as she can. Her room is already cast in a sound-proofing spell, muting Madison’s wails from the rest of the academy. 

“Shh… I've got you, Madison. We’re in my bedroom, okay? You’re safe with me. I promise,” Cordelia whispers, hushing the latter with her gentle tones, one hand carding through soft hair while the other remains wrapped protectively around her body.

_How safe am I with you?_

Emotion floods through her like her very heart is pulsing the pain into her blood vessels, all the way to her fingertips. Everything hurts with an indescribable persistence to ruin her. It’s pain that’s worth years of her life, and there’s so much of it that Madison fears she’ll never stop sobbing until she dies from exhaustion. It’s her mother, and her asshole father, and everyone she’s ever loved who never loved her back. It’s rejection, masked with fake smiles and shallow bonds, and how there’s never been a single person in her life that she’s truly valued; because no one’s ever valued her. It’s the longing to feel something that isn’t the often unpleasant and unsatisfactory thrill of sex, or the dizzying buzz of vodka, or the cheap high from her cigarettes that her body is nearly immune to already; and the cocaine stopped being good years ago, so she stopped using. To long for something is inherently painful; like a dull ache that settles somewhere deep inside her mind, heart, and soul, throbbing ever so often when those wishful needs aren’t met. But no one has longed to simply be loved, even in the slightest, quite as long as Madison has. Longing is a curse. Longing is what took, and took, and took from Madison until she was so drained from wishing for meaning in her broken life that she forgot who she was. 

The part that stings the most about this moment, Cordelia decides, is that part of why Madison’s sobs rock the bed as much as they do is because she’s unfamiliar with the feeling of being taken care of. The older woman knows immediately, when Madison’s watery eyes stare up at her in such blatant disbelief every time she assures her that she’s safe. The girl can’t wrap her head around it being okay to sob herself raw in the presence of someone else, and it’s clear in the way she nearly recoils from Cordelia’s every touch, fearing it as much as she craves it. She fears how much of it is her fault, and inwardly accepts the painful constrictions of her own heart, enduring them as she should. However unpleasant the devastating truth to all this is, she owes it to Madison to own up to just how wrong she’s done her.

“You can let me hold you, Madison. I promise, it’s okay,” Cordelia murmurs softly, and Madison’s tensed muscles ease up slightly at the reassurance, hands loosening their fearful and unsure grip on the Supreme’s shoulders.

Madison’s sobs don’t soften for a concerning amount of time, even as her heart starts to feel lighter in the slightest at such a violent release. She’s a broken dam, and the currents are still strong, flooding out of her frail body with enough strength to rattle her bones. Cordelia holds her tight enough to keep her in one piece. At the thought, she doesn’t know how she could ever thank the woman for it, or if she even should. She’s vaguely aware that despite how much her soul has screamed for a release of every feeling she’s kept violently stuffed down inside her brimming body, this is Cordelia she’s with. Trust does not come easy with her, and it possibly never will. There’s, frankly, far too much that has happened for Madison to pretend things are okay. That apology from earlier rings in her mind, but it’s overpowered by the volume of her own flurry of emotions. She hasn’t a boat strong enough to traverse the ferocity of this storm. Not on her own, at least, to her dismay and weak resignation to it. The Supreme tenderly runs her fingers through her hair over and over again, soothing her scalp with the repetitive movements. Madison would sigh in relief at the sensation if she could stop crying like it’s her only purpose in life, or dissociate from the fact that it’s Cordelia. Her body is caught in a war between seeking any comfort she can get and wanting to be as far as humanly possible from the woman. The hold is both safe as much as it is suffocating; it’s exactly what she wants, and hates. 

“Here, let’s get you a little more comfortable,” Cordelia whispers, shifting their bodies so they’re properly laying down with ease. She hasn’t let go of Madison’s body for almost two hours now, and she doesn’t care. 

Madison’s lips tremble, wet with the tears reaching them. Sweat wets her skin from the pure vehemence at which her body is expelling every last emotion she’s forced down into her small frame for all her years, but it’s cold. She’s cold, and Cordelia is the only thing warming her. The reality of that never ceases the conflict it brews in Madison. She blinks away tears, hiccupping and sobbing herself into exhaustion. There’s so much of it; so much tears, and a lifetime of hurt she’s refused to acknowledge. But Cordelia is here, of all people, and for the first time she’s not ghostly alone. She begins to hyperventilate again, because in a fleeting second she’s losing her soldiers of sanity to the war that had begun the moment Cordelia apologised to her. 

“Madison, I need you to breathe for me. Listen to my heart. Let’s breathe together. Can you do that for me?” Cordelia asks softly, gently guiding Madison’s head from the crook of her neck to lay against her chest.

_Listen to my heart. Let’s breathe together. Cordelia, what the fuck are you doing to me?_

Madison, despite herself, manages the weakest of nods. Cordelia nearly mistakes it for another violent shiver. It’s the first indication that Madison is aware enough of her surroundings to process her words, and her tense shoulders loosen slightly with relief. She stares at the body in her arms, unable to see Madison’s face from the angle. The ache in her own heart does not let up, even when the girl gradually stops hyperventilating. The weight of her catastrophic choices materialises in the form of Madison, and it’s beyond haunting to be in such close proximity of the consequences. 

A strange sense of wonder and awe fills a miniscule part of Madison’s mind as she lays with her head pressed against Cordelia’s chest, despite herself. Perhaps it’s the unwavering steadiness of her heartbeat; so calm and so certain of itself. Perhaps it’s the perfervid magic that flows vibrantly through Cordelia’s entire body, pulsing just below her skin and radiating from her in waves. Madison is wrapped up in arms of unparalleled power, and though she almost expects to feel scared by such a revelation, she isn’t. Cordelia is the most powerful witch on the planet; her power could ruin anyone without so much as a blink of an eye. What sets her apart from her late mother isn’t the power of Supremacy, but the power of being able to tame such dangerous flames right down to the mercy of her fingertips. She is not volatile like Fiona was, and in her ability to have Supremacy at her mercy and not the other way around is where the real power lies. At least, that’s what she appears to be. Madison isn’t stupid like the rest to think that Cordelia is any less capable of what her mother had been capable of. And really, she’s fucking losing it now. The untamable yearning for comfort has her by one wrist, and her nearly complete distrust toward the Supreme has her by the other. If one side doesn’t start letting up, she’s certain she’ll be ripped apart in a way even Cordelia’s suffocating and safe arms won’t be able to hold together. 

As Madison calms down in Cordelia’s arms, warmed by the proximity and the comfort she’s never had before, she’s almost glad- almost glad it’s Cordelia. And she's strangely compelled to tell her, just as badly as she wants to disappear off the face of the earth. 

Dusk begins to settle over the academy, slowly changing the colour of the air in Cordelia's bedroom. After nearly three hours of Madison's soul-shattering explosion of emotions, she begins to quieten. She'd cried herself dry long ago, but the uncontrollable sobs never ceased until now, convulsions that rocked her from the bones. Cordelia summons a bottle of water into her hand, momentarily letting go of Madison to try and open it. As she does, the girl stiffens, having grown accustomed to the touch in her darkest hours. The inherent intimacy of being held so tenderly burns at her skin in a way she’s yet to understand why she needs it, and she reaches out, afraid that Cordelia is about to leave her. Her puffy eyes dart around, pupils swirling with a delirious kind of panic. 

"I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. I just want you to have some water, okay? Can you sit up for me?" Cordelia asks, voice hushed in a way that doesn't overwhelm Madison. 

She could, and she wants to, but she can't. Cordelia sighs softly at the evident exhaustion weighing the girl's limbs down, sunken into the mattress. 

“I’ll help you,” she mumbles, before gingerly pulling Madison up from under her arms and leaning her nearly completely limp body against the cushioned headboard. 

Holding a warm hand under her chin, she reaches for the bottle on her nightstand, cautiously placing its mouth to Madison’s chapped lips, murmuring a soft, “Take a sip, sweetheart.”

Madison obeys. Yet again, she ignores the endearing term she’s called. The first swallow hurts simply because her throat is completely dry. Like desert sand being rained on, she rehydrates, desperately slurping at the bottle. Cordelia accommodates her thirst, holding the bottle to her lips for as long as she plans on drinking. Madison stops when half the bottle’s contents are gone, panting to regain her breath. She licks her lips, wetting them with the droplet that remains on her top lip. The Supreme smiles softly down at her, putting the water aside. She reaches out with caution, stroking the latter’s soft, blonde hair. As her thumb tucks a few golden strands behind her ear, Madison seems to have gained the courage to really look at her. Swimming in her eyes of multiple shades of brown is far too many feelings for Cordelia to decipher with just a glance. However, she doesn’t feel a strong need to; Madison feels damn near weightless after such a release, if her energy signatures are any indication to the Supreme. 

“Better?” Cordelia asks, and she’s so very tender in everything she does. Madison almost feels like crying because of it. She hates it- hates that she craves it.

“Mhm…” Madison tests out a hum on her tongue, unable to manage words. She watches as Cordelia lightens at the sound.

“That’s good. You’ve been so strong, Madison. You must be exhausted, do you want anything to eat or would you rather just sleep?” the woman presses gently, wishing to tend to any and all of Madison’s needs at the moment. She tries to tell herself it isn’t the guilt talking.

“Sleep…” Madison finally speaks, straining against her throat but slightly satisfied nonetheless. 

“Okay, of course. You should wash up and get into something more comfortable. I’ll take you to the bathroom and get you some fresh clothes, okay?” Cordelia tilts her head in question. She doesn’t quite leave room for argument, Madison notes.

When the young blonde nods weakly, Cordelia leans in, arms securing themselves around Madison’s small body. She unconsciously leans into the touch, frustratingly, holding onto her upper arms and allowing herself to be lifted. In seconds, Cordelia has transmuted them into her bathroom. The Supreme’s strong arms support Madison’s weak body, not allowing her to touch the floor as she sits her down on the counter by the sink. Madison needs a few seconds to get her bearings, not quite comfortable with the speed of life yet. She blinks up at Cordelia, noting the Supreme’s soft smile. She almost wants to smile back. Almost. 

“Wait here while I find something for you to wear. I’ll give you something of mine- I know Zoe would be curious if she were to see me digging through your clothes,” Cordelia speaks, slightly louder as she leaves the bathroom in favour of her closet.

Madison notes that this is the first time in hours that Cordelia is more than a foot away from her. At the loss of such closeness, she wills herself to stop shivering and wishing Cordelia’s arms are around her again. It’s futile. The Supreme had given her the warmth she had craved for many painful years of her life, without question and without judgement. She had been so tender, and soft, and she was able to make Madison truly feel safe. 

As hard as it is to feel okay with Cordelia and these compromising circumstances, feeling safe, despite its unfamiliarity, is certainly not unwelcome. 

In Cordelia’s protective arms and warm magic, Madison had felt too much. Baring herself to another soul, as intimately and vulnerably as she had, hadn’t actually been as terrifying as she expected. She has a feeling Cordelia has something to do with that, from the way she had eased the breakdown out of her from start to finish with unwavering care. Despite the ease at which it seemed to have happened, the war continues. Because no, she doesn’t fucking want Cordelia anywhere near her. She doesn’t. The question of it being a need that’s entirely out of control, uncaring towards her feelings, hangs like a weighted arrow sticking out of her heart.

Madison really isn’t sure if she deserves any of this. Cordelia is suddenly more understanding and considerate than she had ever deemed possible. There are absent thoughts that roam the toxic planes of her mind, wondering how much of this has been birthed out of guilt, or whatever else Cordelia’s intentions with her are. It’s unfathomable that she has just gone above and beyond to take care of her like this. But the thought sends hot needles through Madison’s heart, like a reminder of how undeserving she is of anyone’s time or care, and yet Cordelia is continuing to defy her haunted beliefs of herself. Whether or not she really cares, she’s acting like it, and that already feels like more than Madison is used to.

When Cordelia returns, the tiniest hint of a smile on her face fades at the sight of new tears streaming down Madison’s cheeks. She places the bundle of clothes she had picked out for the blonde by the side of the sink, gingerly reaching out to wipe at the hot streams on pale skin. Her concerned gaze seems to ease more tears out of Madison, and she steps closer, pulling her into a hug. To her mild surprise, Madison locks her dangling ankles around the backs of her legs, tugging her closer. Once again, and not to her knowledge, Cordelia is the only thing keeping Madison in one piece in the worst way possible as she sobs into her chest. It’s the way she’s so fucking gentle that makes Madison want to scream her throat raw like it isn’t already; it’s the way Cordelia’s slowly but surely proving that her care isn’t just some act like she almost wishes it would be, just because it would be easier to keep fighting her that way.

“Shh… I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Breathe for me, sweetheart,” Cordelia whispers, soothing the tension in the latter’s scalp with her gentle fingertips beneath her blonde tresses. She stands tall, her body shielding Madison from the rest of the world for a moment. It’s the very least she can do, and it’s barely enough. She’s barely enough for Madison.

Madison calms down much faster this time. She struggles to let go of the woman, wanting to be hidden by her tall frame and in her arms, agonisingly growing familiar with such warmth. It’s strange how quickly she feels dependent on the touch; it must be her lifetime worth of deprivation. Self loathing still licks its dark tongue along the edges of her mind, but with Cordelia’s immensely powerful magic, the harmful thoughts are kept at bay. Perhaps that’s another reason why Madison just doesn’t want to let go; because Cordelia is protecting her from herself, whether she realises it or not. She doesn’t want to deal with her own catastrophic state of mind on her own, but she’ll have to once Cordelia isn’t here keeping her in some kind of grace period. It’s frankly easier to think about her disarray of thoughts regarding the woman than whatever else she’s been crying herself dry about.

“I’m going to run a bath for you, okay? The water will help you relax,” Cordelia speaks, words ever lingering in their bed of hushed tones, and Madison manages a nod, sniffling. 

As Cordelia does as she had said she would, Madison can’t tear her eyes from the Supreme. She’s afraid that if she were to look away, even if only for a moment, she’d be alone again. The part of her that wants to be has weakened, now. The woman’s presence is powerful, filling up the empty air with the barely perceptible thrum of magic that’s only hers. In fact, the coven has been existing in a perpetual state of unnameable vibrance, and the walls that once whispered dark secrets of the past now hum silent and arcane melodies. Madison grows to understand that the effervescence of which the academy basks in now is entirely due to Cordelia’s unprecedented Supremacy. The woman is brimming with so much power that she’s able to expel years of negative energy from the very walls of this massive academy with seemingly no effort. Fiona had never seemed even marginally as powerful as her daughter now is. It’s only a shame that Cordelia and Madison exist on an orbit that doesn’t allow her to feel what the rest of the girls feel for the Supreme, an orbit entirely consisting of hostility and far too many things left unsaid.

Madison fails to understand how Cordelia does not seem to harbour a single arrogant bone in her body about her Supremacy. She has always told everyone that being the Supreme is never about wanting it or deserving it, but about fulfilling the sole purpose of leading and protecting the coven- about being a vessel. It’s a selfless thing, but Madison knows Cordelia isn’t all that she seems. But Cordelia is still everything she isn’t, and to have become what could be considered a loving soul despite the wrath of her mother and a presumably rough childhood, she’s something, Madison supposes.

A feeling, indecipherable in its nature, settles softly inside her, buzzing when Cordelia returns to stand in front of her again. She feels delirious. It’s now that she feels the warmth of risen steam filling the bathroom accompanied by a fragrant, floral scent. Cordelia smells like the bathroom- no, wait, the bathroom smells like Cordelia. 

“The tub is full. I hope you don’t mind this scent, I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I just used mine,” Cordelia says, and really, it’s ridiculous that things like this are what make her cheeks flush. Madison would taunt her for it on a normal day.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, struggling through speaking coherently, but she figures it pays off when Cordelia seems to ease up in the slightest, cheeks still pink. 

_I wish I didn’t give a fuck about you._

“Okay. Let me help you down,” the Supreme speaks again, and it’s the moment of hesitation before she makes a move that Madison understands is her silent way of asking for her permission. 

Cordelia’s hands land on Madison’s small body once again, gripping her torso from under her arms to carry her down from the counter. With calculated moves, she stands the young blonde onto her feet, still holding on to steady her. Madison is too weak to stand on her own, they both realise, the moment Cordelia lets go and she stumbles. The Supreme sighs softly, tilting her head in thought for a few beats.

“I’m not sure a bath is a good idea. I can’t have you falling asleep when you’re in here on your own,” Cordelia says pointedly, as if to convince herself of the risk. 

_I don’t mind drowning as much as you’d think._

“...Then stay,” Madison whispers, conserving her energy and thankfully too tired to overthink what she’s just said. She’s entirely unsure of how those words escaped her.

At the suggestion, Cordelia doesn’t know how to proceed. It would solve the problem of Madison possibly endangering herself by having her bath in this state if she’s there to look after her. At the same time, something about this feels a lot like standing dangerously close to the edge of… of something. She isn’t sure what, and neither is Madison(not that she knows that), but it’s the first time the latter has shown any willingness to have her around if not purely out of desperation. She wills herself to stay neutralised in the slightly acidic tension of it all.

“Alright, I will. But I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Madison,” Cordelia’s conflict is evident in her voice, if not visible from the furrowing of her brows. 

“I don’t really want to be alone right now,” Madison confesses, and she looks unbelievably small with her unsure eyes downcast. She looks small for admitting such a thing, and she surely feels it too, along with whatever’s left of her hostile thoughts beginning to crumble.

“Of course. I understand. Let’s get you in then,” Cordelia smiles.

With tentative hands, Cordelia helps Madison out of her clothes that have been sweated and sobbed in for hours. Madison is not nervous in the slightest to be seen naked by anyone; it’s about the only time her confidence is not fabricated. It’s now when she realises how she’s starting to soften, allowing herself to feel cared for in the way Cordelia is so gentle, fingers barely ghosting over her skin to remove every article of clothing on her small body. Everything about the Supreme is warm, so warm that Madison’s shivers are staved off even without any clothes on. She still can’t fathom many things, namely the way her body seems to accommodate it more than her mind is willing to admit. Cordelia gently guides her on unsteady feet to the tub. When they reach the source of the pleasantly scented steam, Madison is lifted off the floor with minimal effort and gently sunken into the hot water. An instinctive sigh blows past her lips the moment her body is submerged, eyes closing at the immediate sensation of relief it brings to be rid of the tension sitting in her muscles. She closes her eyes, leaning back until the base of her neck rests against one end of the tub, and she slowly stretches her legs out when Cordelia’s arms retreat from the water. The soles of her feet touch the wall of the other end of the tub, just long enough to accommodate her full frame.

“Does that feel good?” Cordelia asks, though the lighter lilt to her tone indicates that she already knows the answer to that question. 

“Yeah…” mumbles the latter, eyes closed with her lips parted. She looks to be falling asleep. 

Cordelia smiles privately at the sight. Guilt stabs at her again. She kneels down by the bathtub, in fear of making Madison uncomfortable by standing the whole time. Madison sighs and breathes audibly ever so often, her sounds accompanied by the soft ripples of water caused by her movements. Cordelia closes her eyes, leaning against the tub so she’s facing the same way Madison is. She’s strangely eased, being so close to the girl, because nothing bad could happen while she’s right here. Except everything bad has already happened, and it had all been her fault, anyway. But she’s taking care of Madison now. And though it may not be enough, it’s all she has. The guilt festers inside her like a disease, spreading erratically throughout her body. She fights to keep it away from her mouth, not wanting to speak a word of it now and ruin this moment of faux tranquil. A drop of water seeping into her blouse rouses her from resting her eyes. Blinking away her thoughts, her gaze lands, confusedly, on Madison’s wet hand less than a foot from her face. She then looks between the hand and Madison’s closed eyes. The latter is unaware of her silent question, by the looks of it, so Cordelia goes with her gut.

The Supreme takes her wet hand in her own. Unknowing to her, Madison is just as confused by her own actions, unable to fight the almost painful urge that fuels her body’s need to be touching Cordelia in some way. She doesn’t understand. She wants to, and maybe she really does know where it’s coming from, but she’s not ready to admit it yet. So she doesn’t understand. Cordelia’s larger hand covers hers completely, warm despite the water between their skin. Cordelia rubs her thumb across Madison’s small, fragile looking knuckles in slow and repetitive motions. The girl has yet to open her eyes, a sign of both relaxation and exhaustion. They stay this way, with Madison just about asleep in the tub, and Cordelia sitting right beside it, holding her small hand and watching over her with her mere presence.

When the water begins to cool, Madison stirs along with the change in temperature. The tips of her toes and fingers are pruned, but only on the hand that had remained in the water. Cordelia’s warmth seems to have dried her other, the woman still cradling it in her own. She blinks away the bliss her body has just been in, turning to find Cordelia’s face. She wonders if she should feel guilty for tiring the woman out this much. She doesn’t want to wake her, but it’s inevitable when she tries to climb out of the tub but ends up stumbling back into the water. The splashes wake the Supreme in record time. She blinks quickly, instinctively gripping the hand in her own as she stands without stumbling. Worried, she kneels back down, eyes scanning over Madison to see if she’s hurt. At her silent question, Madison shakes her head no, and watches as Cordelia’s shoulders ease up again.

“Have you had enough?” she asks, soft, tiredness evident in her voice now. Madison nods.

“Alright. Let me get you out of here,” Cordelia mutters, unplugging the tub to drain the water.

As the lukewarm water shallows, the Supreme leans over, arms sliding under Madison’s knees and behind her back. She almost has a practiced kind of ease to the way she lifts the younger blonde out of the water, Madison feels, simply from the way she’s so effortless. Her strength is ever present, despite her the fact that she’s most definitely tired. Madison holds onto her with her arms loosely locked around her neck, and from her quietened mind beginning to let up on its silent protests, she knows she’s exhausted, too. Cordelia sets her down on her feet, still holding her waist. She reaches for the towel on the pile of clothes she had left on the counter earlier, one hand still steadying Madison’s body. She channels some magic into her arm to keep it strong enough to hold Madison up while her other hand fumbles with the fabric. Well aware of why she’s being drained, she blinks the thought away. Once Cordelia has gently toweled the girl dry, she tosses the dampened fabric aside in favour of fetching the warm clothes.

“It’s a flannel set. I thought you might like something warmer than silk,” Cordelia speaks, and her words come out in subdued mumbles. Madison can understand everything she says, but notes the change in silence. 

Madison tries with all her might to accommodate Cordelia’s helping hands, stepping weakly to allow the pants on and sliding her arms through the long sleeves of the shirt. She observes how Cordelia patiently buttons the flannel up to the collar, leaving one undone. She doesn’t mind the lack of undergarments, presumably because Cordelia obviously doesn’t share her sizes. She’s just grateful enough that Cordelia cares to keep this hushed, hence skipping a trip to her and Zoe’s shared room. She understands from what Cordelia’s just said that most of her pajamas consist of silk. Everyone in the coven knows that Cordelia dons silk like no one else. When she’s fully clothed, it’s made extremely clear how different they are in size. Cordelia is a head, and maybe a little more, taller than her. Madison stares questioningly up at her when Cordelia smiles in the slightest at the ridiculousness of the younger girl in her pajamas. She bends down to roll each pant leg up until they reach her ankles. The shirt sleeves stretch past her hands, flopping around like paws. Madison breathes in deeply, infiltrated by the smell of Cordelia’s clothing detergent, Cordelia’s shampoo and body wash, and Cordelia’s perfume. 

Despite herself, she feels comfortable… safe. Something seems to have shifted, evidently, and she finds it to be a mixture of both of their exhausted states. Her mind has burned itself out from questioning every word or touch from Cordelia, and the woman in question has definitely eased up on calculating them as much as before. Madison can’t even say she minds it anymore. She’s tired of fighting against whatever the fuck her body so adamantly needs from Cordelia’s. 

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart,” Cordelia looks down at her, tucking a damp strand of hair behind her ear.

_Case and point._

With Madison’s faint nod, Cordelia brings her into an embrace. Madison sinks into it uncontrollably, confused before they’re transmuted back to her bed. She grips Cordelia’s blouse as tightly as she can muster, deciding then and there that she will absolutely not get used to that. Cordelia mumbles a short apology for startling her, easing the grip off of her clothes with gentle hands. Madison wills herself to breathe in normally, quickly calming down in the comfort of the bed and Cordelia’s presence so close to her. She’s losing it. She’s losing it now, to be able to admit that. 

“I’m going to freshen up really quickly, okay? Will you be okay on your own?” asks Cordelia, once she’s turned the bedside lamp on.

As much as Madison wants to say no just for the sake of being numbed of her own misery with the Supreme so close to her, and wanting the warmth all to herself, she nods. She’s admittedly feeling better, anyway, and she’ll be fine with Cordelia away from her. She wants to be fine with Cordelia away from her. The Supreme offers her a smile, tired in its nature.

“Alright. Make yourself comfortable, okay? I’ll only be a minute,” Cordelia all but whispers now, reaching for the comforter to splay it over Madison’s flannel-clad body.

Madison watches at the evidently tired Supreme summon something silky into her hand on her short walk to the bathroom, the clothing flying through the air with a faint whistle. As she closes the door softly behind her, Madison keeps her eyes on the sliver of light that leaks from under the door. She barely makes out a moving shadow here and there. Her loud thoughts muffle the sound of running water and vague rustling, perhaps of clothes being tossed into the hamper. She’s too tired to be shocked at how easily she’s allowing herself to get comfortable in Cordelia’s bed like she’s done it millions of times. She’s too tired to question Cordelia’s seemingly unending care for her, as if she has no limits as to how much she’s willing to do for her. The thought harbours equal amounts of want, dread, and guilt. She’s stopped doubting Cordelia’s intentions with her, and she knows it. Perhaps, ultimately, she’s just struggling to wrap her head around all that’s happened, right from her breakdown in the woman’s office, to being buried in her pajamas and her bed right at this moment. The memory of shattering under Cordelia’s gentle gaze is still fresh in her mind, despite it feeling like it happened days ago. This day is decidedly one of the longest Madison has ever lived through. She doesn’t quite understand how she hadn’t passed out from exhaustion hours ago, and as she absently wonders if it has anything to do with the Supreme, the woman in question emerges from the bathroom.

The light from behind Cordelia momentarily casts her silhouette in an angelic glow before she turns it off and shuts the door. The bedroom is dim, with the only light coming from the small bedside lamp. Cordelia indeed dons a long, silken robe as she approaches the bed with inconceivable elegance. It’s one Madison has seen before; the woman was often so all over the place when Fiona was still around that she sometimes stayed in her expensive sleep robes far past noon before dressing accordingly. She’d never forget how much of a mess Cordelia had been, in no way the headmistress the coven needed. Madison averts her eyes in mild panic when Cordelia climbs into the large bed, settling beside her.

“Are you okay in the dark, or would you like the lamp to stay on?” the Supreme asks, with her hand hovering by the lamp switch.

“You can turn it off,” Madison mutters.

They lie awake with a few inches of space between them. It’s quiet for a while.

“I used Vitalum Vitalis to keep you going today, Madison. I thought I should tell you,” Cordelia cuts the momentary silence with the softness of her voice.

Madison frowns slightly, confused. It answers the question she had thought of earlier exactly, like Cordelia had guessed. She just doesn’t understand why. Yet again, Cordelia reads her without thinking. She briefly questions if that has something to do with her power, too, but it’s perfectly believable that she’s just incredibly perceptive of everything intangible.

“I knew I could have just let you pass out earlier, and you definitely would’ve. But I wanted you to be able to let everything out as soon as possible. You needed it, and if you were to pass out for a few hours, it would’ve been harder and taken longer for you to go through it like that. I shared enough of my energy with you to keep you awake and able to let go of everything you’ve been holding in. I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to alleviate the pain of that experience, Madison,” Cordelia sighs, and it’s tired. It’s tragically apologetic, dipped in vulnerability. Her guilt sheens across her eyes in the dark where Madison can’t see them.

_You couldn’t possibly alleviate the pain of my existence._

“Don’t be sorry. You’ve done more for me than you had to, anyway,” the young blonde mutters, soft as it mingles with the blanket of darkness they exist in at this very moment. 

“No, Madison. You’re deserving of love and care, more than anything. I’m so sorry that I’ve taken so long to realise how much you need it. I will do everything in my power to give you those things until you believe you deserve them,” Cordelia speaks, slightly firmer now but still gentle to the atmosphere, “and even after you believe it, I will continue to love you and take care of you. F-from now on.”

Out of everything Cordelia has said so far, this is perhaps the only thing that makes things explicitly clear to Madison in a way that doesn’t allow her to doubt her anymore. The guilt is evident in her tone like sticky syrup, oozing from each word and especially the stammer that Cordelia had failed to prevent. It’s strange to hear the words with such affirmation, as if Cordelia isn’t giving her a choice of whether or not she wants to be loved and cared for. And perhaps she really isn’t. Madison can’t seem to figure herself out when the revelation sweeps over her, the wave crashing against her before she’s able to hold her breath. A tear, warm and wet, slips out of her eye. She reaches up to wipe it away, struggling to find something to say. When nothing good enough comes to mind, she battles with her next move. A short breath shoots past her lips, letting go of the last of her apprehension. She shifts closer until she’s pressed against Cordelia, and the Supreme’s accommodating arms are immediately wrapped around her small body. The warmth brings more tears out of her, as if she hadn’t already cried herself dry. 

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers, watery and faint against Cordelia’s collarbone. 

“Shh… it’s okay. You’re okay,” Cordelia whispers, stroking Madison’s soft, slightly damp tresses. As her hold tightens, it’s protective. She can’t let anything happen to Madison ever again. She can’t. Neither of them can afford it.

“I- I’m-” 

_I’m not okay, Cordelia. Make me. Make me okay._

“Hey, shh… sweetheart. I’m right here. You’re not alone. We can talk tomorrow when you get some of your energy back. There’s no rush, okay?” she murmurs, and the words effectively hush Madison’s whimpers into shallow breaths as she begins to calm down in her arms, once again. 

_Can you make me okay again?_

“I know you’ve got things you want to say. We’ve got all the time in the world for that. Tonight, we’re sleeping, okay?”

Madison’s weak nod is a good enough response for Cordelia. She nuzzles against her neck and breathes shakily, sweater paws in a bundle between their bodies. Madison resembles a fetus drowning in flannel pajamas at the moment. Cordelia strokes her back, running her hand up and down in a way she hopes is soothing. She tries to absorb as much of the negative energy in the air as she can, to help Madison breathe easier. Her body gets heavy as she does, but she fights it.

“I know you’re exhausted, even if I was able to keep you up. I couldn’t give you more of my life force because I still had to take care of you,” Cordelia speaks again, once Madison’s soft sniffles have subsided. 

“Thank you,” Madison whispers, as small and vulnerable as her weak body. She doesn’t question any of it.

“You’re going to pass out as soon as I regain my energy, okay? Don’t be afraid, you won’t feel a thing,” the Supreme murmurs, her own exhaustion kicking in from sharing her life force for hours on end. 

“W-wait.”

“Hm?” Cordelia pauses, halting from inducing Madison’s immediate collapse.

“I…” Madison hesitates, closing her eyes and mustering the last of her courage, “thank you.” 

Cordelia’s heart swoons, “Get some rest, sweetheart. Goodnight.” 

As the Supreme closes her eyes, breathing in, the life force she’s shared with Madison throughout the day returns to her body, and the latter immediately goes limp in her arms. She’s going to be out for a while. Cordelia is immediately invigorated by the return of her full capacity of energy, shedding most of the exhaustion she had felt prior. She fondly strokes Madison’s hair, soft between her fingertips. The girl’s breathing is completely evened out, warm against her neck, and her little arms are still curled between the Supreme’s chest and her own. She’s likely too exhausted to dream, and it saves her the risk of having any nightmares tonight. 

Cordelia blinks up at the dark ceiling, searching with her eyes for words written on it that don’t exist. She knows that the worst is over. She hopes Madison does, too. This doesn’t mean things are okay. They’re far from it, and guilt is right on the tail of recovery. What Cordelia would have to do to make up for every way in which she’s failed Madison before can never be forgotten or erased. Madison barely trusts her, let alone likes her, and the thought of this night being a one-off blip in the universe is frightening. Cordelia doesn’t want to wake up to Madison’s attitude and sharp tongue back in full force, pretending that none of this happened. But could she blame her if she did? The girl has had to come up with ways to protect herself from the harm of this world and everyone in it, and right up until now, Cordelia had been just another person Madison was protecting herself from. She doesn’t blame her, and she can’t, even if she wanted to. She’s at fault in unimaginable ways, the kinds that manifest themselves as the darkness of her nightmares; the rope that tightens its hold on her everytime she breathes while trying to forget herself. It’s all the failure, and all the death, and every wrong decision, plaguing her down to her very existence. Supremacy had just given her enough strength to live without collapsing from the gravity of a past so tainted with all things wrong. Cordelia is now well aware that she will never be the Supreme that Madison- that all the girls- deserve, if she doesn’t take every bullet she had once deflected. She needs them, straight to her heart. She needs to feel the pain, however belated, and she needs to suffer through it. Birthed from pain often comes new beginnings, but there won’t ever be a new beginning with Madison. There are only the broken bonds, bleeding in parts and shattered in others, that they have to fix even if they end up with cuts in their palms. Except Cordelia won’t let that happen; she won’t let a single other thing hurt Madison more than the pain she already feels, and if she is to end up with bloodied hands, then so be it. She can’t fucking hurt Madison anymore, and she will die living up to that unspoken promise. Madison will be protected by her, and if not as the Supreme, then as the one who owes her for the wounds that have left scars. The guilt won’t cease anytime soon, and neither will Madison’s distrust. But if Cordelia can’t handle it, then she doesn’t even deserve Supremacy. She’s a lot stronger than the sorry excuse of an existence she once was. This day had been a step, ever so small on an endless path, towards any semblance of recovery. 

Madison exists as a force in this coven and in Cordelia’s life, volatile and unpredictable and immensely powerful. Her soul has seen death, and her heart beats in a perpetual state of heartbreak. Yet, she stands as tall as she’s capable of, and she powers through life in whatever way she can. Her habits are unhealthy and so are her coping mechanisms, but they’re hers. She created what she had to to survive without what she needed. It would be admirable if it wasn’t so inherently devastating. But Cordelia does envy it, deep down. She envies the power that Madison harbours without things like Supremacy to aid her. What she has is only hers. 

But Madison is so broken. She’s just barely reaching the line of being beyond repair, where her feet aren’t touching the ground. Cordelia can’t fix her in the way she so desperately wishes to, but she can carry her back to shore, and they can go from there. They can figure something out from there. They have to- she has to. And she will, for Madison. From now.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked that! If you couldn't already tell by the length of this one shot, I have a lot to say about Madison and Cordelia hhhh. Also I suck at editing my work so I never do it and apologise for any parts that don't make sense hhhh. Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated, they totally make my day <3
> 
> Here's my tumblr if you have requests/questions/prompts or you just wanna be friends! : [lilysbananascoven](https://lilys-bananas-coven.tumblr.com/post/633232114303778816/lilysbananascoven-archive-of)


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